The Gift
by Mele
Summary: When an injured Palmer goes missing from a crime scene on Christmas Eve, the entire team ends up out looking for him, encountering other troubled and seeking souls. The whole team is involved.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's notes:_**_ This story is based in this season, and for it to work you have to disregard the episode "House Rules", awesome as that one was. I don't own NCIS, much as I'd like to. On with the story….._

**The Gift**

By Mele

At nine in the morning on Christmas Eve day Team Gibbs had only one Christmas wish: no dead bodies. Though they were supposed to be working on cold cases, in reality they were checking the status of last minute gift orders, making New Year's Eve reservations, or emailing family members. None had made any travel plans, for once. Bishop and her husband planned to spend the holiday together, Tony was going to help Abby serve dinner at the local shelter, and Tim's family was in town to spend what they expected to be the admiral's last Christmas together.

But even the magic of Christmas can deny wishes, and Gibbs hung up his phone while standing up. "Gear up, we've got a body in the park," he announced, electing to ignore the faint grumbling of his team. Placing a quick call to Ducky, he led the team into the elevator, thankful that at least it was a nearby location.

The ME team showed up five minutes after they did, parking their vehicle beside the MCRT's vehicles and two police cars. Ducky and Jimmy hurried past a non-descript car parked on the grassy expanse, and knelt by the body of a young soldier.

"What do we know so far?" Ducky asked as Jimmy inserted the liver probe.

"Not much," Gibbs replied. "Two passersby noticed the car, came to investigate and found the body. Bishop and DiNozzo are talking to them," he noted, as Tim moved about, taking pictures of the scene.

"Time of death is about four hours ago," Palmer spoke up, cleaning the probe and putting it back in the satchel.

Ducky looked up from his examination of the body. "Of course, the autopsy might reveal something unexpected, but my initial supposition is that three gunshots to the chest would be the cause of death."

"He fought back. Or fought someone," Jimmy chimed in, holding up one curled hand with bruised and abraded knuckles. "And it appears we may have some evidence under the nails," he added, pulling a couple of small plastic bags to put on the appendages to preserve the evidence.

"Hey, aren't you off today, Gremlin?" Tony asked the younger man as he and Bishop joined them.

"I came by to drop off some gifts when the call came in. I offered to come along, in case I could help," Palmer replied, standing up. "I'll go get the gurney."

Tim had finished the pictures and gotten a fingerprint before Jimmy bagged the victim's hands, now he spoke up. "He's Petty Officer Charles Bragdon, just back from a tour in Iraq. Single, no children, from West Virginia."

"Okay, Tim, you and Bishop bag and tag everything within ten feet of the body. DiNozzo, you and I will check out the car," Gibbs decided, looking at the vehicle, which was parked about fifty yards from the body.

The two police officers stood talking near the front of the vehicle and Jimmy was approaching from the rear, pushing the gurney, when the car exploded.

"Holy crap!" Tony exclaimed, instinctively ducking. "What the hell?"

"Ducky, DiNozzo, check Palmer, McGee, Bishop and I will check the officers," Gibbs ordered, sprinting forward, closely followed by the others, with Ducky having automatically grabbed his ME bag.

DiNozzo raced past the burning car and downed officers already being tended by the others and headed toward the rear. He saw the gurney upside-down, and spied one of Jimmy's arms protruding from beneath it. The Senior Field Officer checked to make sure it was safe, and then with the newly arrived Ducky's assistance shifted the gurney off the assistant ME.

"Oh, dear," Dr. Mallard muttered, starting a careful probing of his assistant.

"I'm gonna grab a fire extinguisher," Tony gasped out, running toward the parked vehicles.

Ducky noted Palmer was unconscious, but appeared to have no broken bones nor open injuries. The young man did have a rapidly swelling knot just above his hairline, but at least it wasn't bleeding.

"Ducky, we need some help here," Gibbs called out as Tony arrived with two extinguishers and attacked the blazing car.

"Is Palmer okay?" Gibbs asked as Ducky arrived still toting his medical bag. Gibbs and Bishop were struggling to calm the struggling officer, who moaned and writhed in pain.

"Unconscious, but apparently not too badly injured," he reported, absently.

"I can't really do much for this officer, I don't have any medication to give him, but perhaps this might help soothe the pain some," he said, pulling out some salve. He glanced over to the other officer, noticing Tim had a grip on one of the victim's arms while using his phone with the other hand.

"Timothy, how is he?"

"Unconscious and bleeding badly, I've got it slowed down with manual pressure, but if you can provide a tourniquet that'd probably be best," McGee replied. "I called 911, they are on their way."

Just then the first officer lost consciousness, which was actually a relief, at least he wouldn't be aware of the pain. Leaving him for the moment, Ducky hurried to Tim's side and deftly worked to stop the bleeding. In the distance they could already hear the welcome sound of approaching sirens.

"Timothy, keep an eye on him to make sure the bleeding stays stopped," the ME ordered after a quick examination of the policeman. Both officers had suffered burns and shrapnel wounds. "I'm going to go check on Mr. Palmer."

He walked past the still smoking car, his gaze going automatically to where he'd left his injured assistant. He saw the gurney, but no sign of Jimmy, and he turned to Tony, who was just setting down the second emptied extinguisher.

"Anthony, did you move Mr. Palmer?"

"What? Of course not," Tony exclaimed, walking up to stand by Ducky. "Where did he go?"

"Problem?" Gibbs asked, coming to stand by them.

"It appears we've lost Mr. Palmer," Ducky said, walking up to the spot he'd left his assistant.

"Careful, Duck, this is now a second crime scene," the team leader advised.

"Maybe he went back to the ME van," Tony suggested, starting toward the parking lot.

Just then an ambulance, fire truck and two police cruisers entered the park, coming to a stop behind the police and NCIS vehicles already on the scene. The area was quickly filled with police, firemen and ambulance attendants in a scene of controlled chaos. The ambulance attendants readied the two injured officers for transport as the firemen made sure the vehicle was safe to be removed and Gibbs and Ducky reported to the newly arrived policemen what had transpired. Dinozzo had found no sign of Palmer in either van, so he, McGee and Bishop were searching the area round where Jimmy had been injured, looking for any indication as to what happened to the assistant medical examiner.

"So, the initial crime scene is yours," Detective Ramos said, indicating the still waiting body of the petty officer.

"Yeah, and the missing person is a NCIS employee as well," Tony noted with some asperity.

Gibbs considered his options. It was Christmas Eve, none of the other teams were on duty today, and he was reluctant to call them in. He wanted to work both cases, but couldn't split the team yet. With a sigh he made his decision.

"Ducky, you and Tony prepare Petty Officer Bragdon for transport and take him in. Duck, go ahead and do the autopsy. McGee, you make the arrangements to bring the car in, and Bishop and I will take the evidence in, get it to Abby." He raised his hand to forestall the objections he saw coming on all sides.

"We have a responsibility to find the petty officer's killer. The police are more than capable of searching for Palmer," he declared. "The sooner we get the case finished, the sooner we can join them." There was a bit of grumbling, but the team disbursed to follow orders.

"We'll do our best, Gibbs," Ramos assured him. "Anyone got a picture of him?"

"Hey, Duck," Gibbs called over to his old friend. "You have a picture of Palmer we can use?"

Ducky walked back, pulling out his wallet as he came. Carefully extracting a picture, he handed it to Gibbs, as if to remind the man of the place the youngster held in Ducky's life. It showed Jimmy and Ducky at the prior year's Christmas party, standing together and holding glasses of eggnog aloft, smiling with carefree joy. Gibbs handed the small rectangle to Ramos without comment.

"My God, he looks too young to be drinking," the veteran officer commented.

"He has a seven months pregnant wife waiting at home," Dr. Mallard said simply, turning again toward the petty officer's body.

Gibbs watched Ducky stalk off, then turned to the officer with a wry look. "He's a little protective of Palmer."

"Agent Gibbs, if there's one thing police officers know about, it's protecting their partners. I'm guessing you're ex-military, I doubt I need to explain anything to you."

"Right on all counts," he agreed, extracting his card and handing it to Ramos. The other man took it and put it in his uniform pocket.

"The minute we know anything at all, I'll call," he promised sincerely, surprisingly touched by the NCIS agent's trust. He suspected Gibbs wasn't someone who trusted lightly.

"I'm counting on it."

NCISNCISNCIS

By one in the afternoon Ducky had the preliminary results of his autopsy, so Gibbs headed down to get his old friend's report.

"Jethro, any word from the police yet?" he older man asked anxiously.

"Ducky the minute I hear anything, I will call you immediately, I promise," Gibbs said quietly.

"Of course, I should know that," Ducky muttered, turning toward the table where Bragdon's body lay covered.

"My field assessment was correct, cause of death was gunshot wounds. One severed an artery, death was very quick, if not painless. Otherwise our young petty officer was in exemplary condition," he noted, checking his notes. "Only other things to note are he had Italian for dinner last night, and sexual intercourse. Abby is running DNA on that and on the samples from under his nails. She should have results shortly."

"Looks like you've done all you can, why don't I help you put Petty Officer Bragdon away, and if you want to go look for Palmer yourself I can't see any reason why not," Gibbs decided, helping shift the body to a drawer.

"I appreciate that, Jethro," Ducky started, only to be interrupted by Gibbs' cell phone ringing.

"I've got something…well, somethings actually. Can you come down?" Abby asked.

"I'll be right there," he replied, pocketing the small device. "Want to come along?" he asked the ME.

"Why not? As you pointed out, the sooner this is solved, the sooner we are all looking for Mr. Palmer."

They entered the forensics lab to find an anxious Abby waiting for them. "No word yet?" she asked immediately. Atypically, there was no music playing in the background, and her Christmas decorations had been turned off.

"Not yet, Abbs. What do you have?" he replied.

"Besides massive anxiety for Jimmy? Well, mucho goodness," she explained, turning to her computer.

"First the DNA from his hands. Belongs to one Munitions Expert Ned Larson, recently back from Iraq. I checked the records and he and our deceased petty officer have crossed paths many times. Now for the part that actually belongs in a soap opera or something. The DNA from the area that is not his hands, that belongs to Regina Larson, a bookkeeper at a local construction company and wife of Ned Larson," she explained, turning to Gibbs with an expectant expression.

"We need to locate the Larsons," Gibbs noted, pulling out his cell.

"I'm ahead of you," Abby said, staying his hand. "I called Timmy right after I called you, I'm betting by the time you get upstairs they'll have answers for you," she grinned. "But first, one more nugget from my Christmas stocking. They found the remnants of the explosive device that set the car off. I did some checking, and the components are military. The sort of things a munitions officer, for instance, could easily enough obtain."

"Good job, Abbs," he said, giving her a quick kiss on the temple before heading toward the door.

"Can I come along?" she asked with a longing look.

Gibbs gave her one of his half grins and waved his hand in invitation. They arrived in the bullpen to find Bishop and DiNozzo standing behind Tim's chair, watching him.

"Got anything, McGee?" the team leader asked.

"Found them, Boss," the green eyed agent answered, picking up the remote and moving to the area in front of the plasma where he was joined by everyone else. "I found their cell numbers, which I was able to trace. Regina Larson is at home, and Ned Larson is at a bar on Newton Avenue," he reported, bringing pictures of both the Larsons up on the screen side by side.

"Tim, you and Tony go pick up the husband, Bishop and I will deal with the wife," Gibbs ordered. The team turned to grab their bags but stopped as they saw Vance walk into the room, followed by Detective Ramos.

"I ran into him downstairs, thought I'd bring him up myself," Vance said quietly.

"We found this near the back of the park," the detective explained, handing over a dark jacket. Jimmy's NCIS Medical Examiners jacket, to be exact.

"Any idea why he was back there?" Ducky asked with a worried look.

"It's an odd one. We found no evidence of a struggle, anywhere. It's as if he simply got up and walked off on his own," Ramos explained with a puzzled look.

"It's possible he did just that," Ducky said slowly. Seeing the questioning looks, he continued somewhat hesitantly, as he thought his way through it. "He was pushing the gurney when the car exploded. I would expect it flipped upward, ironically providing a sort of shield, which would explain why I found no cuts or burns. But when it landed on him, I believe part of the metal framing hit his head, he had a fairly significant head injury. If he woke up, alone, seeing a burning car, people hurrying about…he could have been disoriented. Confused. Might even have amnesia; it's not common but not unheard of either. He wakes up…doesn't understand what is happening…he might indeed feel himself to be in danger, and if so he would leave. We may need to get the public involved in the search as well," the ME suggested.

"We usually only do that with missing persons in imminent danger," Ramos noted.

"Mr. Palmer has a head injury, he is also an insulin dependent diabetic, which means if he doesn't eat and take his medication regularly he can die. He IS in imminent danger," Ducky countered.

"I see your point. I'll arrange a press conference."

"And I'll go to Breena, bring her here. She can't hear about this through a press conference," Ducky added, turning to go. The others looked at Gibbs.

"The Larsons first. Abbs, did you finish with the rest of the evidence?" Gibbs wondered.

"Major Mass Spec is working on it as we speak," she replied.

"Okay, I'll check in with you when we get back," he said, as the team headed out, anxious to have this case decided.

NCISNCISNCIS

Ducky pulled up in front of the small house the young Palmer family called home. Christmas lights lined the windows and roof, and an inflatable Santa waved a cheerful greeting in the tiny front yard. The older man took a deep breath, steadying himself for his duty, one he always prayed never to have to do, then climbed out of his Morgan.

Breena answered the door with a puzzled smile, which faded when she saw the expression on her husband's boss. "What's happened," she asked with tear filled eyes, her hands going down instinctively to cradle her burgeoning belly. "Is he dead?"

"We don't believe so," Ducky replied, gently escorting her a chair.

"What do you mean? 'We don't believe so'? What kind of answer is that?" she asked, studying Ducky's face anxiously.

"He was injured in an explosion at the crime scene, but I examined him, all I found was a head injury, he was unconscious but his vitals were strong. I went to assist with the other victims, and when I checked back on Jimmy he as gone. The evidence indicates he simply wandered off," Dr. Mallard explained gently.

"Why would he wander off?"

"I think he was disoriented, confused. There was a burning car, Anthony was fighting the fire, and we were treating two severely injured police officers. Enough to confuse anyone, really, let alone someone with a head injury. They found his jacket near the rear of the park, but no signs of a struggle," he reassured her. "They are going to release a press conference, asking for the public's help in finding him. I thought it might be best if you were with us at NCIS, not sitting here alone. Mr…uh…Jimmy told me your folks were in Montana this year for Christmas."

"Dr. Mallard," she started hesitantly, then continued. "Why was Jimmy at a crime scene? It was his day off."

"He was there when the call came, dropping off my present. He offered to help, and I didn't have the sense to refuse it," Ducky said with a downcast look.

"Don't you dare blame yourself, Dr. Mallard," she hastened to assure him. "Jimmy loves his job, and he thinks the world of you. I should have known," she continued with a chuckle. "It's been hard not working in the mortuary since I got pregnant, but with all those chemicals…well, I know the reason but I still miss the work," she concluded.

"Come with me, my dear," he encouraged her, nodding in approval as she grabbed her jacket and purse. Helping her into the warm apparel, he escorted her to his car.

NCISNCISNCIS

Gibbs knocked sharply on the door of the apartment, noting the lack of any decorations. When no one answered, he knocked again, calling out. "NCIS, we know you're in there Mrs. Larson."

The door was finally opened by a slightly pudgy blonde sporting two black eyes, swollen lips and a cornered look. "What can I do for you?" she asked, her gaze darting between the two agents.

"May we come in? We have a couple of questions," Bishop asked.

"It's not a very good time," the woman demurred, starting to close the door. Gibbs put out his foot to stop it, but kept his behavior from being aggressive.

"It won't take long. Did your husband do that?" he queried.

"No, I um…I fell. Clumsy," she answered, avoiding eye contact.

"Was that before or after you had sexual relations with Petty Officer Charles Bragdon?" Gibbs asked bluntly. While he understood it was unintentional, evidence indicated that this woman helped set into motion actions that culminated with two police officers and one assistant medical examiner being injured. He didn't have the patience or the time to be subtle.

The woman paled, and staggered a little. "What? What are you talking about?" she gasped out.

"Our ME found your DNA on the petty officer's penis during his autopsy."

"He…he's dead?" she asked, tears filling her eyes. "He really killed him?"

"Care to revise your story?" Gibbs asked with knowing look.

NCISNCISNCIS

Tony led the way into Mario's Bar, a small establishment that depended on the neighborhood patrons to survive. Tim walked in behind DiNozzo, pulling up the suspect's picture on his phone to be sure it was fresh in his mind. With only three patrons so early in the day, it was easy to spot Ned Larson at the far end of the counter. The man stared into his drink moodily, not noticing the two agents' arrival until Tony spoke up.

"Find any answers at the bottom of that glass?" he asked.

"Yeah. Women suck," the man slurred.

"Deep," Tony answered, reaching to take out his cuffs. "Ned Larson, you're under arrest for the murder of Petty Officer Charles Bragdon and the setting of a bomb that injured three others," he intoned, reciting the Miranda Rights as he led the man out. While Tony secured their prisoner in the car, Tim ran the plates in the parking lot, finally locating the one that belonged to Larson.

Tony quickly jimmied the lock and the two agents searched the vehicle. Tony whistled in appreciation when he looked under the mat in the trunk.

"Jackpot Timmy," he called out. McGee shot him an irritated look which brightened when he saw what Tony had uncovered.

"I'll call for a tow," the younger agent said, and Tony carefully examined the wires and other small parts.

"They're on their way. So, you thinking parts for making a bomb?" McGee asked.

"I do indeed, Probie. Santa came a little early this year," he added with a smirk. "I can't wait to drop this ass off. We can't do anything until he sobers up anyways."

"It's time to go find us an Autopsy Gremlin."

To be continued…..

_**Author's Notes:** I kinda rushed through the case, but this isn't meant to be a case fic. _


	2. Chapter 2

Part two

Tony and Tim entered the bullpen mere minutes after Gibbs and Bishop, tossing their bags behind their respective desks.

"Well, what did the infamous Mrs. Larson have to say?" Tony asked, looking expectantly at Gibbs.

Gibbs frowned, standing up. "I've got to check on Abby, go ahead, Bishop," he said, heading toward the elevator.

"She tried to deny any involvement, but when Gibbs basically told her we knew she'd been with Bragdon, and that he was now dead, she was pretty forthcoming. Apparently her husband walked in on them, Bragdon fought him then baled, so Larson turned his anger first on Regina. He'd been threatening to kill Bragdon while he was beating her, and apparently she eventually lost consciousness. He was gone when she woke up. Your turn: what did Ned Larson have to say?" the blonde agent asked

"'Women suck'," Tony quoted with a grin. "Didn't ask him anything else, he'd been drinking. Kind of a lot; he's sobering up in a cell as we speak. Any word at all from our downtown friends?" he asked anxiously.

"Uh, guys," Tim interrupted, grabbing the remote to up the volume on the plasma.

A redheaded anchorwoman was on the screen, a picture of Jimmy Palmer in a small screen over her shoulder, as she read from a sheet in her hands.

"….examiner, James Palmer, is missing. Mr. Palmer suffered a head injury and may be disoriented, unsure of who or where he is. He is a diabetic, so it is imperative he be found before his medical condition deteriorates. He was last seen at McKinney Park, wearing a dark blue, long sleeved shirt and jeans." The anchorwoman was replaced by a close-up of Jimmy, cropped from the picture Ducky had provided. "If you see James Palmer, please call either the police department at 555-3706 or the NCIS offices at 555-6314."

The three watched silently as the image of their coworker - their friend - faded from the screen and the cheerful anchorwoman launched into a story about the investigation into a small local bank. Gibbs spoke up unexpectedly from behind them. "DiNozzo, call the operators downstairs and tell them I want ANY calls about Palmer routed to one of us. Bishop, call Ramos and tell him we are available to follow-up on tips they receive. McGee, bring up a map and be ready to start tracking any and all locations we are informed of," the leader ordered briskly. The sound of the opening elevator doors and the sight of the new arrivals quieted him, and he hurried over to greet Ducky and Breena.

"Breena, we are doing all we can to find your husband," he said reassuringly. "We won't rest until we find him."

"I know you are Agent Gibbs, Jimmy is always saying you and your team are the best," she replied, putting her hand on Gibbs' arm. She looked around at the others with a wan smile.

"Come, my dear, you'll be more comfortable in the conference room," Ducky urged her.

"No, please," she countered, getting everyone's attention. "Let me stay here in the bullpen. I can even take calls. I'm not going to get hysterical, or have a fit. I want…I NEED…to help. If it gets to be too much I'll let you know, I won't endanger my baby with too much stress, but right now sitting in the conference room would be much more stressful," she argued.

Gibbs considered her carefully. This was the woman Palmer said was the strong one when their expected adoption fell through, ready to try again right away. This was the woman who agreed to move up her marriage ceremony so Palmer could come back to work on a case. He noted her steady hands, surprisingly calm blue eyes, the glint of determination clear. For a moment he was reminded of Shannon, and there was no way he could refuse her.

"You and Ducky take those two desks, DiNozzo, call down and add them to the call list. Abby was determined to go out and just look, so be sure to watch for a call on your cells from her. I tried to explain waiting for the report of a sighting would be better, but you know Abby. The rest of us will stand by for calls," Gibbs ordered at last.

"With it being Christmas Eve, there are a lot of people out, and that area near the park is busy with shoppers. Someone is sure to spot him," Bishop chimed in.

"Hey, Boss, can I call out for pizza…and um….salads?" DiNozzo asked, glancing at Breena.

"I love pizza," the young woman grinned at him, appreciating his consideration.

"Yeah, get two, three big ones. We'll share with everyone."

NCISNCISNCIS

Abby found herself on one of the busiest streets in the city. People rushed to and fro, darting into the various high end gift shops that lined the boulevard, disregarding those too slow or small to bother with. The forensic scientist hurried along studying each face that passed, praying to see that all too familiar visage she saw almost daily. Intent on her search, she almost missed the small sound of distress from a cluster of newspaper stands by the busy street. But she did hear it, and stopped, leaning down to look between two of the machines into a pair of large, frightened brown eyes.

"Oh, sweetie, this is no place for you," Abby declared, reaching out to retrieve the small brown and white dog. "You'll get trampled or run over for sure. Who are you?" she asked as the small creature happily licked her cheek in thanks.

Abby looked over the busy sidewalk, seeing no one who appeared to be searching for a lost animal. She checked for a tag, finding only the requisite animal control license, which was of no help to anyone outside the animal control office, which was surely closed by now on Christmas Eve. She considered calling Tim, but between the case and Jimmy being missing, he'd be stretched too thin to help Then another possibility came to her and she set out in a determined fashion back toward her car. It was only five blocks to a considerably more run down neighborhood, but the lights from the animal rescue were still bright and inviting.

Kyle looked up with a smile that only widened when he spotted the green eyes so similar to his own, and he hurried over to hug his sister, unmindful of the armful of dog she held.

"Abby! I didn't think I'd see you until tomorrow!" he exclaimed, only then noticing the small dog. "And who is this?" he asked.

"I don't know, I'm kinda hoping you can help me find out," she confessed a bit shamefacedly. "I found her over on 21st street, I was so afraid she'd be trampled or run over I didn't want to leave her there, but all she has is an animal control tag. Is there any way you have of tracking down who owns her?" she asked hurriedly.

"I do have my sources," he said mysteriously, before breaking out in his trademark grin. "Come on in, let me get the info," he invited.

"That would be great, I didn't want to have to bother Tim, he's pretty busy," she replied, setting the dog down on a grooming table.

"Looking for Jimmy," Kyle asked gently.

"How'd you know that?"

"The news has been running bulletins almost every half hour," her brother explained, pointing to a small television in the corner.

"Yeah, I was actually trying to find him when I found her instead," she replied.

Kyle jotted down the license number then turned to his sister, "Let me make a quick call, I'll be right back."

Abby watched him through the doorway as he called and spoke softly to someone, hanging up with a smile. "He'll call me back in about five minutes," he assured her. "Let me take a quick look at our visitor here," he said, turning the dog a bit and feeling her over carefully.

"She's a spaniel, right?" Abby asked, stroking the animal's soft fur.

"Yep, Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, to be exact. One of the breeds that makes me think of you," he added with a fond smile.

"What are you talking about?" she wondered with a suspicious look.

"Well, there are certain breeds that share some of the same personality traits you have. For instance, the Jack Russell Terrier is determined and feisty, just like you can be when you're on a mission. The pug is a ball of energy and optimism, which is also you. But the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, well, they are pure love, and that's you too," he explained with sparkling eyes.

Abby found herself blushing, and looking down in embarrassment. "I'm not all that," she demurred.

"You're all that and more. Without those traits, I'd still believe I had no family – blood family. You gave me an incredible gift," he told her. He'd know from the beginning he'd been adopted, but his parents had no information on his birth parents. Abby had been an unexpected and much appreciated surprise.

"The gift part went both ways," she smiled at him. They shared a moment of fond silence, interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

"Ah, let's see if my source found what we need," Kyle said, hurrying into his small office. He spoke a few moments, writing down some information before hanging up with a satisfied look.

"Our new friend here is named Noel, and here is where she belongs, according to the tag number. The family is named Baxter," he said, holding out a slip of paper to Abby.

"Perfect name for the season, isn't it? And I know where this is," Abby smiled, relieved that she'd be able to return the small animal to her home. "I really appreciate this," she added sincerely.

"My pleasure, I think you know how I feel about dogs," he grinned. "Let me get you a leash, it's easier than carrying her. And if for some reason they aren't there or can't take her, bring her back, I'll be happy to care for her," he added.

"I will. I'll see you tomorrow, right?" she queried, snapping the leash on the dog and lowering her from the table.

"At noon. Is Tony still coming?" he replied.

"Unless he can't because of a case, yes he is," she reported. "Or if Jimmy is still missing," she added with a worried look.

"They'll find him, I just know it. I'll see you tomorrow at the shelter. Now take this little girl home, and if you need anything you just call me."

Abby hugged her brother warmly then headed back to her car, Noel obediently following at her heels.

"You're a well behaved little girl, aren't you?" Abby asked the small dog with a grin. "Someone must love you very much."

She quickly drove to the address Kyle had given her, finding herself parking in front of a typical tract home, but one that was well kempt and cheerfully decorated. Two small bikes were parked on the front lawn, and a swing set could be seen in the back. Abby was reminded of her own home and her parents' enthusiasm for the holiday. Her father would decorate the house and yard, and her mother would spend days making cookies, fudge and pies for the family and friends. She and Luka would hang their stockings, and each year they were allowed to take a name off the 'Angel Tree' at the local shelter. Their parents would pay for most of the gifts, but the children got to make the selections and wrap them.

She'd felt betrayed when she'd found out she'd been adopted, like her childhood had been a lie. But now, sitting and looking at this warm, cheerful house, she realized how special a gift she'd been given. A happy childhood. And love. Lots and lots of love.

Smiling, she stepped out of the car, grabbing up the leash as Noel leapt out, obviously recognizing where she was. The small dog pulled Abby excitedly up the front walk and onto the small porch.

"Hey, there, slow down a little, huh," she requested with a grin. She saw lights on in the house, and a sense of optimism filled her as she rang the bell.

The door opened to reveal a young woman in jeans and a sweatshirt, her expression curious but cautious, as she didn't recognize the visitor. But Noel took that moment to bark happily and the woman looked down with her expression morphing instantly to joy.

"Noel! Seth, girls, she's home!" the woman called out, opening the door quickly. "Please, please, come in."

Abby stepped over the threshold, dropping the leash as two small blonde girls appeared in the doorway that lead further into the house. Noel made a beeline for the youngsters, her tail nothing but a blur as she greeted the children, leaping up to lick whatever she could reach. A tall blonde man carefully stepped over them, reaching down to attempt to pat the over excited dog before joining his tearful wife in the entry with Abby.

"We didn't think we'd ever find her again," Mrs. Baxter was saying, wiping at her streaming eyes. "I took the girls to town for some last minute shopping, and I forgot she was still in the back yard. I don't know if she got out or if someone took her."

"I found her over on 21st Street," Abby explained. "I doubt she ran that far alone, so she probably escaped from someone. I guess we'll never know, but at least she made it home."

"Thanks to you," Mr. Baxter added. "I'm Seth Baxter, this is my wife Gail, and those two are Anne and Julie. What's your name?"

"Abby Sciuto, I work for NCIS," she replied.

"Isn't one of your co-workers missing?" Seth asked. "I saw a bulletin on the news."

"Yeah, actually I was out looking for him, but found Noel instead."

"Well lucky for us. Look, can we offer you a reward?" the father asked.

"No. Oh, no. Not necessary. Seeing how happy your girls are is reward enough. I need to get going, but Merry Christmas," Abby responded, turning to go.

Gail Baxter pulled the tall young woman into a warm hug. "Thanks to you it will be. And a Merry Christmas to you, too. We'll be praying you find your friend."

"Thank you," Abby replied, waving to the girls who were still fussing over their pet. "I'm so glad Noel has such a good home."

"And such a good guardian angel," Seth added, also hugging her.

Abby just gave them a soft smile, then headed to her car, a warm glow of happiness and optimism filling her. She figured she should return to NCIS, her urge to look randomly for Jimmy no longer so keen.

It was time to work with her friends, not solo.

To be continued

_**Author's Notes: ** I can't recall too much about Kyle, so if I went counter canon on anything there, it's my bad. This bit contained the ever popular 'Doggy Sue'...yep that pup on my avatar is named Noel, a Cocker Spaniel, not a King Charles, but similiar enough. Also my bad. And, I imagine some are wondering why do a Christmas story if I wasn't planning to finish it by Christmas. Well, I DID plan to do most of it over this past weekend, but a trip to the ER and three days in the hospital kinda screwed that plan over. I'll finish as soon as I can but things are tight thanks to that unexpected three days off. _


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